


stray cat strut

by honeycola



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 03:56:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14180046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeycola/pseuds/honeycola
Summary: Closer to the 2022 Winter Olympics, Empress Sui Wenjing has a scratch that needs to be itched. Future!fic





	stray cat strut

**Author's Note:**

> As you can tell, this was a very self-indulgent fic. Inspired by this gifset: <https://sui-han.tumblr.com/post/172259291490>. Also, title is based on my favorite SuiHan skating routine.

1.

The first time, Sui really didn’t know when or where the urge even came from. She just remembered seeing another personal record being broken, getting stuck in a group hug with Cong and the coaches, and getting swung off the podium with the gold medal that they so rightfully won. Cong had set her down lightly on her skates, as always, and she kept thinking about the stupid grin on his face.

She remembered knocking on Cong’s door in the middle of the night, and bulldozing him as soon as he opened his door. 

“Stop playing your videogames, and take off the rest of your clothes. I need to relieve some stress,” she ordered, trapping him with her weight and then smashing her lips against his so he couldn’t say anything. It probably would have been considered assault if Cong hadn’t kissed her back. And that was just the beginning.

-

“So is this going to be a thing now?” Cong asks Wenjing in the current moment, in a stupor of sweat and heat rising from their bodies. She always thought Cong was handsome, ever since the first day they’ve met. But the more and more they argued over the years, she couldn’t separate his anger from his looks. Being tangled together like this however, with her naked body stuck to his, she remembers that very first impression of him. 

She picks up her head off his bare chest and smiles at him. “Who knows?” 

 

2\. 

 

The second time, they’ve won the NHK trophy. Wenjing marches up to him after dinner, and whispers, “I’ll race you to your room.”

“You’re a freak,” Cong retaliates, but that doesn’t stop him from chasing after her. When he catches up to her, he scoops her up into his arms and she peers over his shoulders. 

“Coast is clear,” she says, and kicks the door closed as soon as Cong carries her inside his room. 

They don’t even make it all the way to his bed, opting for the couch instead. She does all the work this time, riding him out until they both stop panting each other’s names, and she can feel his orgasm filling her up, followed with her own afterwards. She doesn’t know what does it for her, the satisfaction of dumping all that weight and pressure off her shoulders or the look of pure ecstasy on Cong’s face. 

 

3.

They don’t say anything about their agreement, just like how they didn’t say anything when they first got paired up together (and look where that got them - the world’s leading champions in pairs skating). After each medal, the look that Wenjing shoots at him is understood. 

“Dude, why did you pack so many clothes?” Boyang asks one day, poking Cong’s bag. 

“You never know what occasion you have to dress up for,” Cong says, pulling his bag away. He quickly breaks eye contact with Wenjing, who’s laughing on the other side of the room.

Later, after a long session of having Cong on his knees, licking Sui clean and wet, she pauses his hard work by grabbing the shoulder that her leg is hooked over.

“I won’t rip your shirt this time,” she says, tilting his chin up. 

“Sure,” he says, pushing her back down into the bed and placing all of his weight on her. She can feel his cock twitch against her, and she grinds her hips into him, relishing the noise that comes out of him.

“Can’t have anyone else find out about this,” she moans, as he presses his lips to her neck, kissing and sucking a trail that’ll force her to wear a turtleneck tomorrow. 

“They won’t, I promise,” Cong says, and Wenjing knows well that he always keeps his promises, remembering how he used to visit her every weekend in the hospital. The memory prompts her to grab him by his neck and pull him in for a kiss, swearing that she can feel him smiling afterwards. 

 

3.

Cup of China is their worst performance. Or to be honest, hers. She falls down on all of their coordinated jumps, and the only reason their overall score isn’t too bad is because of Cong. He’s still making up for all her flaws by answering all the questions that she doesn’t feel like answering, and dragging her away from ever flashing camera. Good thing she’s wearing waterproof eyeliner.

“Do not let this affect the Olympics. The same thing will not happen,” Coach Zhao tells her afterwards, and despite how many times he pats her on the back, the idea is already in her head. 

“Are you okay?” Cong asks finally, after a long silent car trip. 

She turns to stare at him. “You’re not doing anything tonight, right?”

-

Despite how appealing Cong looks in his post-competition state, wearing nothing but that necklace that he’s worn since God knows when, she pushes him off. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this,” Wenjing says, tugging the sheets around her body. She curls on her side, expecting him to yell at her, but nothing follows. She sneaks a glance behind her, and sees Cong pulling a shirt over his head, the shirt that she had torn off of him not too long ago. Usually, she’s not the giving-up type, but she can’t get Coach Zhao’s words about the Olympics out of her head.

“Can I just lay here?” she asks quietly, retrieving her own clothes off the ground.

“Yeah, of course,” he answers. “I’ll sleep on the floor.” 

“Are you sure?” she sniffles.

She feels the bed shift, and then the kiss that’s pressed to her forehead. “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.” 

30 minutes later, after turning and tossing, she slips down to the floor, and lifts up the sheet that Cong is sleeping under. Cong groans, but doesn’t say anything when she curls up beside him on his makeshift bed. He wraps his arm around her, securing her to his side.

 

4.

They raise their gold medals as if they’re fake wine glasses, except it's the real thing and better. Wenjing blinks back the tears trying to escape her eyes. Not only have they made it through two Olympics, a long period of obstacles and recovery, and years of annoying each other, they’ve made it through the last interview they’ll probably ever have together. 

“So I guess that’s it, huh?” Cong says, looking down at the ground. The tone in his voice suggests that he’s not just talking about their skating career. 

Wenjing shrugs. “Maybe we should start actually dating.” 

Cong looks up at her, surprised. And she finally sees it. Or at least, she’s finally accepted it. The truth is that she’s always seen it, especially in the way that he looks at her, whether it's every time they win or fall asleep in each other's arms.

“I don’t know, I saw some beautiful women throwing green onion toys at me-” Cong says, subsequently dodging a smack to his face. 

“I’m just kidding. You’re good for me,” Cong says, pulling her closer and gently resting his forehead on hers.

“You’re good for me too,” Wenjing admits.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I'm not too exactly sure how the competitions run in order (too lazy to do the research). So if I got it wrong, I apologize for that. Anyway, I love these two and needed to write their skating chemistry into existence. (If anyone wants to obsess over them with me, my twitter is @honeytame).


End file.
